


What'd I Get Right to Deserve Somebody Like You?

by Geronimoandbemagnificent



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: ALSO IM WRITING SORT OF SEASONALLY APPROPRIATE FICS FOR ONCE, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Amazingphil - Freeform, Big Bang Challenge, Ed Sheeran - Freeform, Fluff, Humor, I love it so much, M/M, Mentions of Smut, Phan - Freeform, Phandom - Freeform, Punk Phil, Sort of Punk phil?, also Louise is my baby in this story, and i had to mention darcy, bbc radio one - Freeform, cutesy cute, danisnotonfire - Freeform, jack and dan friendship PLEASE KILL ME, jamie lawson, live lounge, totally not twenty one pilots what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 02:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5112170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geronimoandbemagnificent/pseuds/Geronimoandbemagnificent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which Dan Howell and Jack Howard have their own BBC Radio Show and get a chance to interview Phil and PJ's band indie band No Excuses. “Actually, I’m a bit in love with the lead singer and guitarist Phil Lester, but I hear that a lot of people are as well, so I’m a bit far back in the queue.”</p><p> </p><p>Dan's alarm bellowed through the room, piercing the air. He considered ignoring it and calling in sick to the BBC for the day, but decided against it. The thought of his flatmate Jack Howard running their weekly radio show alone was a scary enough thought to convince him to start the day. He turned off the 7:30 alarm on his phone and dragged himself out of bed, pulled on a robe and walked to the kitchen to put the kettle on for coffee. He stretched out his arms and sore back in a yawn, sighing when he heard his shoulders pop.</p><p> </p><p><i>Note to self,</i> he thought. <i>Get new pillows. Or mattress.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	What'd I Get Right to Deserve Somebody Like You?

**Author's Note:**

> thank you thank you thank you thANK YOU [ Burning_Up_a_Sun ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Burning_Up_A_Sun/pseuds/Burning_Up_A_Sun/works) ( [her Tumblr](Burning-up-ao3.tumblr.com) ) for being such a wonderful beta and [Cutiepiedan](http://cutiepiedan.tumblr.com) for making the flipping AMAZING art for this story!

London. A beautiful city, full of wondrous opportunities. The Sunday sunrise lit the buildings with its glow. Throughout the city, couples snuggled together under the covers, fighting off the cold December air, children cuddled with stuffed animals, and poor pet owners braved the snow, walking their dogs out on the sidewalk. For once, there were no sirens blaring through the streets, no horns from the passerby cars, it was peacef _—_

_BEEP BEEP BEEP_

Dan's alarm bellowed through the room, piercing the air. He considered ignoring it and calling in sick to the BBC for the day, but decided against it. The thought of his flatmate Jack Howard running their weekly radio show alone was a scary enough thought to convince him to start the day. He turned off the 7:30 alarm on his phone and dragged himself out of bed, pulled on a robe and walked to the kitchen to put the kettle on for coffee. He stretched out his arms and sore back in a yawn, sighing when he heard his shoulders pop.

_Note to self,_ he thought. _Get new pillows. Or mattress._

 

He unlocked his phone to text Jack, in an effort to quicken the time it took for the kettle to boil (because honestly, it was taking way too long).

**To Jack:** Wake up, we leave for BBC in a half hour for rehearsal.

Dan docked his phone into the speakers, not bothering to wait for a reply he knew he wasn't going to get.

"Hey, Siri," Dan called. "Play Gemini by _No Excuses_."

_“OK, let’s hear ‘Gemini’ by No Excuses…”_

 

Dan smiled to himself as the light-hearted ukulele intro flowed through the speakers around the small flat. He danced over to the fridge to grab milk for his coffee, along with yoghurt and fruit for a quick breakfast, mentally thanking Louise for chopping some up and bringing it over the last time she visited. He poured the coffee and milk into a mug, smelling the sweet aroma of the freshly brewed drink.

Dan walked back into his room with food and cup in hand, setting them down on his nightstand. Opening his wardrobe, Dan choose a lavender jumper and boxer-briefs, changing quickly into them. Dan struggled with his black skinny jeans, almost falling over in an effort to put them on. He cursed under his breath, zipping and finally buttoning the skin-tight trousers. He checked the clock on his desk and kneeling down on his bed, he banged his fist against the wall until he heard a muffled voice yell over the noise.

"Fuck, shut the hell up, I'm getting up!" Jack shouted through the wall. Dan smiled at the typical response from his best friend.

 

“Thank you!” Dan bit back laughter. He sat cross-legged on his bed, picking up his breakfast once again. He could hear Jack muttering to himself for some time, followed by footsteps padding to Dan’s bedroom.

Jack scrubbed his hands over his face, yawning. He leaned against the doorway, his hair ruffled from sleep. “I hate you, you know that?”

 

Dan smirked, a bit of the yoghurt caught at the corner of his smile. “No, you don’t,” Jack rolled his eyes, running his hand through his hair. He was about to retort when his phone buzzed in his pajama bottoms.

“Hey Howell, look at this,” Jack shook his head in confusion as he read the text. He handed Dan his phone.

**Group Message from Lou:** Big news, you’re gonna love it :DDD Get over to the BBC broadcasting house ASAP and call me!!!

**Group Message from Lou:** but no seriously call me first.

“What could the news be?” Dan reread the messages. Jack shrugged.

“Well, we’re not getting fired, because she said it was good news. Call her, I’m gonna get dressed.” Jack left the room. Dan called their manager, Louise, who picked up immediately.

“Hey Jack, good news, no, great news!” Louise greeted. “Casper Lee’s in hospital.”

Dan paused for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Louise, I think it’s best if you want to keep the friends you have, be a _little less excited when they’re hurt_ ,” Dan deadpanned.

“Is this Dan? Oh, hi!” Louise chirped, giggling.

“Jack showed me your message. Why are we happy that our friend is hospitalized?” Dan’s eyes flitted to the doorway where Jack now stood, his face contorted with concern. He gave Jack a look that said _you know as much as I know._

“Oh, no we’re not happy about that at all. Casper Lee and Jim Chapman were supposed to do an interview for this band who’s playing in the Live Lounge later this week, but Casper’s got appendicitis, and Jim’s wife Tanya is in labour, so neither-obviously-could do the interview. I overheard the news and thought, _‘what would a good manager do in my position?’_ So I put in a word and I got you the interview!” Louise all but shouted quickly down the receiver. “Am I the best manager or what?”

“Louise!” Dan reached for his drink, taking a sip.“What’s the name of the band?”

“Oh, nobody big really, just a band by the name of _No Excuses_ ,” Louise said excitedly. Dan spit his coffee out. His heart stopped.

_Oh my God is this for real?_

“Oh my fucking God, Louise!” Dan said. Jack sat down next to him. “I love them!”

“What is it?” Jack asked. Dan beamed at his best friend.

“We’re interviewing _No Excuses_!”

“Shut up, I love them!”

“I know you both do, that’s why I did it, silly!” Louise giggled. “BBC already has written questions for you, but the whole thing is going to be really chill, so if you have any of your own questions, feel free to ask them. This is going to be awesome!” she sang.

“Hell yeah it is!” Jack laughed.

“However, you will need to use rehearsal time to become comfortable with the questions, and to write your own, is that still alright?” Louise asked. “The interview will be after your radio show, is that too much to handle?”

“Lou, we’ve been doing this show since last year. We’re gonna be fine,” Jack piped up. Louise laughed.

“Alright, I’ll see you at 9! Goodbye!” Louise said before hanging up the phone.

“I swear she’s like a mum sometimes,” Jack said. Dan snorted.

“So, _No Excuses_. Try to get an intelligent sentence out when you see them, don’t want it to be like that time you met Andrew Garfield during _The Brits_.”  Dan smirked at his friend who spluttered in response.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Jack squawked indignantly. Dan raised an eyebrow.

" _I-I um, hi, um, Spiderman _—__ ," Dan imitated Jack before breaking down in laughter. Jack’s face burned a bright pink in contrast to his tanned skin.

"It’s 8:05. Don't we have to go now?" Jack changed the subject, snatching his phone out of Dan's hand.

"Let's see _—_ fifteen minutes to get to the underground, it’s a half hour commute, ten minutes to get to the broadcasting house give or take five minutes—fuck we're going to be late! Let's go!" Dan jumped off of his bed, ran to get his phone, and dragged Jack out of the door.

~*~

When they stepped out of the elevator Louise greeted them, arms folded across her chest, Patented Mum look on her face, complete with the Raised-Eyebrow-of-Disappointment. “You’re late.”

Jack snickered from behind Dan, though it quickly silenced when she shot the same look at him. Dan wondered for a moment how many times Louise must’ve used that same look on her daughter to perfect it so well that it silences two 24 year olds.

“Lou, we’re five minutes late, the underground was really crowded.” Jack cocked his head to the side, trying to calculate why Louise chose today to be anal retentive about what time they came in for rehearsal.

“I’m sorry, but _No Excuses_ is already here, and they wanted to say hello before they begin rehearsal, and trying to entertain people whom you know _next to nothing about_ is really awkward.” Louise huffed out a breath, cheeks flushing.

 

Dan’s heart stopped as he looked from Jack to Louise and back again. “Wait, they’re here? Like _here_ here?” Dan asked, pointing around the lobby of the BBC Radio One Broadcasting house.

“Were you not listening?” Jack teased.

Dan rolled his eyes, running his fingers through his hair (that he didn’t fucking _straighten_ , ugh _that’s_ what he forgot in the rush to get out of their flat). He tugged the sleeves of his lavender jumper over his palms, wishing that he had a hat or  _something_ to cover his curly hair.

“No, no I _was_ , I was just hoping that I’d get some time to like, get my body ready before I meet _—_ ” Dan waved his arms around as he spoke, before he was interrupted by a pretty face, framed with a black fringe poking his head out of the hallway.

“Ms. Pentland? I heard yelling, and I was wondering if everything’s okay?” The man stuffed his hands in the pockets of his black skinny jeans and walked over to Jack, Dan, and Louise, who smiled. On the other hand, Dan all but melted at the quiet, soothing voice, with a northern accent like Jack’s, but different. It was warm, welcoming. He’d only said one sentence and Dan could listen to him speak forever. He knew exactly who this was— _No Excuses_ ’ lead singer, Phil Lester.

“Yes, Phil, everything is okay. Here are the two lovely gentlemen who will be interviewing you and PJ after their radio show.” Louise gestured to Dan and Jack, shooting them a begging look that said please don’t screw this up. Phil smiled brightly.

“Hi, I’m Phil Lester.” He shook Jack’s hand, then Dan’s. (Dan would be lying if he said that his face wasn’t bright pink, and that he wasn’t internally exploding. Also he would be lying if he said that he didn’t know that Phil wore the very same red jacket while in concert in Japan. But was he going to say that? Not in this lifetime.)

“Hello, I’m Jack Howell, and that _—_ that’s Dan Howard.” Dan hadn’t even realized that he screwed up the names; he was too focused on the fact that he and Phil were holding hands, not even shaking them anymore.

“Hello Jack.” Phil held Dan’s gaze for a few seconds. The small smile playing across his face made Dan weak in the knees. Jack cleared his throat, causing Dan and Phil to break eye contact. Phil’s cheekbones flushed pink, his hand shooting up to rub the back of his neck. Dan shook his head.

“Wait, woah, woah, wait, wait, h _—_ hold on, _he’s_ Jack Howard, not me,” Dan pointed at Jack, who waved.

“I’m Dan Howard _—_ Howell, sorry, hold on,” he took a breath. “ _I’m_ Dan Howell, _that’s_ Jack Howard.” Dan nodded, finally getting the names right, adding a meek _‘hello’_ at the end of the greeting.

“Well, I’ll be Phil, because that’s the one that I know best.” Phil giggled, his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth. Dan hoped that he’d done at least a passable job of hiding his swooning (he didn’t). He was about to open his mouth to say something else, before they were again interrupted by another face framed by a curlier fringe coming out of the same hallway.

“Hey Peej, c’mere, these are the guys interviewing us,” Phil gestured the man over to them. “This is Jack, and that’s Dan.” Phil smiled, lingering on Dan before turning back to his friend. “Dan and Jack, meet PJ Ligouri, our drummer.”

“Hey guys,” PJ smiled as he shook Dan and Jack’s hands. “So, are you guys fans of our band?”

Dan opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“Oh, yeah totally, we have all of your albums,” Jack said. Phil cocked his head to the side, gesturing between Dan and Jack. He was unsure what to say and how to word his thought.

“Are you two…?” Phil’s sentence trailed off, the word ‘dating’ hung in the air. Dan and Jack looked at each other wide-eyed.

“No, oh God no, no we’re just flat-mates,” Dan interjected.

“He’s gay, I’m not,” Jack pointed at Dan, who raised an eyebrow.

“Bisexual. There’s a difference.” Dan crossed his arms and pursed his lips at Jack, who raised his hands in an apologetic surrender.

“There is. I should know, since I am,” Phil nodded. “B-Bi, not straight or gay,” he stuttered out.

PJ snorted. “So music—” He changed the subject before an awkward silence could commence.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re fans, not like huge like _waah_ fans, but yeah.” Dan downplayed how big of a fan he’d actually become since he was introduced to the band’s music last year.

Jack’s eyes bulged, turning toward Dan. “ _‘Not huge fans’_ are you—” Jack scoffed at the blatant lie, though his sentence was cut off by a jab in the ribcage from Dan, who smiled innocently at Phil and PJ. Thankfully, Louise stepped in before awkward turned bad.

“Alright, these boys have to get to rehearsal, and I’ll take you and PJ back to the Live Lounge, so you can practice,” Louise said as she tried to lead the two boys away.

“It was nice meeting you, Dan Howell.” Phil walked backward, smiling at Dan.

“Come on, we have to go,” PJ took Phil’s wrist and dragged him off. Phil held eye contact with Dan until the trio disappeared down the hallway. Dan bit his lip, waving bashfully at Phil.

“Someone’s got a cru-ush,” Jack sing-songed as soon as Phil was out of earshot. Dan flushed a bright pink.

“I do n-what are you talking ab-I don-I _don’t_ fancy Phil Lester what are you _talking_ about," Dan spluttered. Jack raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“ _I’m Jack Howell, no wait Dan Howard, I’m not a big fan of you guys at all and I totally don’t want to go out with you and—_ ” Jack teased, putting on a southern accent to mock Dan.

“Shut up.” Dan hit Jack’s chest with his palm. “And if you’re going to mock me, at least make the accent sound good.”

~*~

“What kind of questions are you going to ask Phil?” Jack crossed his arms and spun in his wheeley chair while they waited to start recording their _Internet News_ segment. _“Are you single? Do you want to go out with me?_ Or are these the questions I should be asking for you, like, should I be your wingman?”

Dan pursed his lips, stopping Jack’s chair mid-spin. “No, of course not, that would be unprofessional.” Dan’s cheeks flushed.

Jack’s eyes lit up as he burst into laughter. “You _do_ have a crush on him, don’t you? I knew it!” Jack leaned back in his chair.

“Actually shut up, I hate you.” Dan groaned, covering his face with the script.

“No, you don’t. It’s a good thing he has a thing for you, too,” Jack said lightly, snorting when Dan gripped the paper.

“Shut up, he doesn’t,” Dan pulled the paper down just enough so that he could see Jack. Dan's chest tightened at the thought of Phil actually being interested in him. “There’s no way—“

“ _Hello, Jack Howell, I’m totally not into you even though we stopped shaking hands a long time ago and I haven’t stopped staring at you for the entirety of our conversati—_ ”

“Alright, alright I get it. Man, you’re really not good at impressions. And Phil’s even northern, so that’s really sad.” Dan laughed at Jack’s offended expression. “And even if he has developed a crush on me, I’m never going to see him again after our interview,” Dan said, running the pad of his thumb across the edge of the paper. “So what’s the point?”

~*~

“Hello, groovy people of the internet,” Jack said into the microphone, smiling at the camera. “I’m Jack Howard, and that’s Dan Howell.”

“For the next hour, you listeners will hear songs and witness some shenanigans courtesy of the two of us. As usual, in fifteen minutes Jack and I will tell you what’s what in the weird black hole that is the online web-verse in _Internet News_ , and we’ll even be showing you a new _Dan vs. Jack challenge_.” Dan smiled, turning toward Jack, who nodded.

“So, how’s your day been Dan?” Jack smirked, crossing his arms.

Dan raised an eyebrow. “My day’s been particularly uneventful besides the fact I didn’t get to straighten my Hobbit hair as we were running late today. But I have been excited about the new _Avengers_ movie premiering at the end of this week, and there’s only twelve days until Christmas!” Dan did a little dance, grinning into the camera.

“Oh my God, _yes._ Did you see Spiderman in the trailer?” Jack gasped.

“Yes, but more importantly, did you see Iron Man’s badass tech as he shot the snot out of the bad guys?” Dan thrusted his palm out, mimicking Tony Stark’s pulse beam.

“Wait wait—you honestly think that Iron Man is better than Spiderman?” Jack scoffed.

Dan scratched his head. “Genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist,” he held out his left hand. “and a teenager who gets bitten by a spider.” Dan held out his other hand, and moved both up and down mimicking a scale, finally ending with his _“Iron Man”_ hand higher than his _“Spiderman”_ hand. “You honestly think that Peter Parker would beat Tony Stark in a fight?”

“Okay _Hobbit_ , two things,” Jack held up his pointer finger. “I’m talking about the genius seventeen year old who gets bitten by a spider, not Tobey Maguire’s whiny version. And two,” he held up another finger. “I’m now looking for a new flat-mate, I’m done with this one. You listeners can send applications to the BBC Radio 1 studio. I can’t believe I shared a flat with him by choice.”

Dan threw his head back, laughing. “Anyway, while we contemplate the outcome of the fight _—_ which Iron Man would totally win _—_ let’s have a song!” Dan smiled at the camera. “We actually just met these guys outside before we had to go rehearse for the radio show,”

“Yeah, they’re really nice, I quite liked them,” Jack said. Dan nodded.

“I’m not going to lie, I’m actually a bit in love with the lead singer and guitarist of this band, Phil Lester, but I hear a lot of people are, so I’m a bit far back in the queue. Anyway, here is _No Excuses_ ’ hit song _Targets_ ,” Dan said, playing the song. He took off his headphones and ducked his head away from the camera, trying to hide his blush. He heard Jack beside him, giggles escaping, trying desperately to hold them in.

“What is the matter with you?” Dan asked, looking at his friend. Jack bit his lips and nodded over to the back corner of the room where he saw—

Dan’s heart stopped.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” he whispered under his breath. Over in the left corner of the room, there were two men with very familiar faces watching their radio show.

_No Excuses._

Phil.

He just confessed his crush on Phil Lester _to Phil Lester_.

“That’s not—“

“Oh, but it is,” Jack laughed.

Dan locked eyes with Phil, who winked and smiled. Then PJ nudged Phil’s shoulder, whispering something into his ear. Dan smiled back, laughing as he covered his face with his hands.

“Oh my God I want to die.” Dan turned around, his back facing the camera.

“Be careful, this show is live and on stream,” Jack warned. Dan’s shoulders tensed, though he took a deep breath and carried on the rest of the show as normal.

Or, at least he tried.

For the remainder of the show, Dan was unfocused at best. He kept feeling Phil’s eyes on him.  

 

 _He couldn’t be staring at me; I’m the dorky guy that he just met three hours ago._ Dan thought.

They introduced a new game called the _Intenserview_ , where fans would submit questions and Dan or Jack would answer as many as possible in thirty seconds, which Dan utterly failed. His attention was drawn to Phil chuckling at all of Dan’s humourous answers, with that damn smile that seemed to brighten the dimly lit area where he sat.

“This last song is _Thinking Out Loud_ by Ed Sheeran. This is at the top of a _very_ long list of favourite songs. Here’s a secret _—_ I’ve always wanted to dance to this.” Dan smiled, his eyes flicking up to where Phil and PJ were sitting, blushing when he locked eyes with Phil again.

“Aww, Dan, that’s almost sentimental. You’d better be careful, or people will think that your _‘black bunny soul’_ isn’t as black as you’ve led them to believe,” Jack joked, referencing their _Sims 4_ series, in which Dan described his soul as dark as Jane Howall’s bunny slippers.

“Oh no, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Dan laughed. “Anyway, for your listening pleasure, here is Ed Sheeran’s _Thinking Out Loud_.”

“He’s staring at you,” Jack murmured from behind the whiteboard held up to the camera that said _“Draw Spiderman!”_

“C’mon, no he’s not, he couldn’t— _don’t look over_! Then he’ll know we’re talking about him,” Dan whispered, drawing the superhero on the board. (Jack rated it a generous C+. Dan’s never been much of an artist.) Dan laughed, seeing the grade and raised his shoulders to the camera as if to say _‘Yeah, it deserves that grade.’_

“Jesus, Dan, calm down. You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it’s meant to be,” Jack said, resting the whiteboard down. Dan sighed, nodding.

Jack then held out his hand for Dan, who glanced at the extended palm, pointing at himself.

_Me? What do you want me to do with it?_

Jack nodded toward his hand. _Dance awkwardly with me._

 

Dan laughed, taking his hand, and twirled under Jack’s arm. They held hands and spun in a circle in time to the music before breaking down in laughter.

“That was _Thinking Out Loud_ , and my life is now complete. Thank you Jack, for being my dance partner.” Dan laughed. Jack clapped him on the back.

“No problem, man. What are best mates for if you can’t awkwardly dance with them?” Jack asked, his laughter bubbling in at the end of the sentence. Dan nodded.

“Very true. Well, that was this week’s show. Up next is Greg James with a line-up of songs that’ll surely get you into the Christmas spirit. See you all next week, same bat time, same bat channel, and maybe with an _Avengers_ review.” Dan said.

Jack scoffed as he waved goodbye to the camera. “Really? Really?” Jack asked, taking off his headphones when the crew called cut! and stopped recording.

“What?” Dan asked. “It’s from a show I used to watch on the telly. _Batman: See you next week. Same bat time, same bat channel._ " He rested his hands on his hips in a superhero stance.

PJ and Phil walked over and Dan’s breath _—_ _again _—__ caught in his throat when he saw Phil. There is no way in hell a regular human being could look so perfect, he thought to himself. Phil and PJ smiled at the two boys, a silent congratulations shared from them. Jack looked between Dan and Phil and sighed.

“Hey PJ, lemme show you where the interview room is.” Jack tried to usher PJ away.

“But I already—” PJ began, but as Jack nodded his head at Dan and Phil, PJ understood. “Oh, yeah sure, totally.” He walked away with Jack, stopping at the doorway to eavesdrop.

“Ten quid says Phil asks Dan out by the end of the interview,” PJ murmured to Jack who laughed out loud. He held out his hand.

“You’ve got a deal, mate. But if there’s anything I know about Dan Howell, there’s the fact that he’s old fashioned. He’s not going to say yes right away.” Jack watched Phil and Dan talk. Dan looked down at his trainers, his face a bright pink as he lifted his head to lock eyes with Phil.

“Not big fans of us, are you?” Phil smirked, his arms crossed. Dan’s face flushed bright red, tugging at the sleeves of his sweater.

“That _—_ that was—that was publicity! For your new album and tour,” Dan lied through his teeth at this man who was having none of it. Phil nodded.

“Sure, sure you were,” Phil teased. He looked down for a minute. “I guess I’d have to fight through that queue pretty quickly if I wanted to ask you out to dinner tonight.”

Dan’s heart stopped. He was all but a puddle on the floor. His favourite artist just asked him _on a date_. He beamed and nodded quickly.

Jack scoffed from the doorway. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Jack took out his wallet, handing the money to a very smug PJ.

~*~

“I’m Jack and that’s Dan, and we are currently in this Super-Secret Location to interview _No Excuses._ ” Jack grinned. They were actually in the room across from where the _Internet Takeover_ filmed, but “ _Super-Secret Location_ ” sounded cooler.

“Thank you guys for having us,” PJ said. Dan caught Phil’s gaze, his heart racing at Phil’s smile.

“Well, first off, congratulations on your new album _Phoenix Rising._ It’s a great album,” Dan started, playing with the corners of his index cards that held the interview questions.

“Though, this isn’t your first time working with the BBC, if I remember correctly,” Jack said.

PJ nodded. “We did an interview with the BBC about a year ago because we were a part of the Reading festival.” PJ leaned forward, resting his chin on the microphone.

“I remember that performance; it was really great.” Dan beamed at the two boys.

“But this is the first time we’ve ever been in a ‘Super-Secret Location’, it feels really cool, like we’re part of some sort of secret agency,” Phil laughed easily. Unlike PJ, Phil sat back on the sofa, his arm resting over the cushion, talking into his microphone like being on camera was something he did daily.

“Yeah, like we’re _Agents of Shield_ or something, or an _Avenger_.” PJ nudged Phil with his leg. “The _Avengers_ series are Phil’s favorite,” he said.

“If you were an Avenger, which one would you be?” Dan asked on a whim.

“Definitely Thor,” Phil said after a moment, flexing his left arm, some muscle showing through his jacket.

PJ threw his head back and laughed. “Especially with how long your hair was back in 2008 when our band started,” PJ teased. “I think I’d be Hawkeye, I have a keen eye for things,”

“With your witty comebacks, oh of course,” Phil giggled. “And oh _God_ , don’t even mention my hair back then; it was so unbelievably long.” Phil cringed, laughing. He curled his fingers against the razor short hair, grateful for the undercut and trimmed fringe he had now.

 

“I was just about to say, nice haircut Phil,” Dan commented, smiling. Phil’s cheekbones flushed a gentle pink.

 

“Thanks, I actually lost a bet with PJ in Mariokart, and I had to get a haircut, one he picked out, even the color.” He leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair, his free hand playing with the bright blue strand in his hair, throwing a playful glare to his best friend. “Though, I think it turned out quite nicely.” Phil grinned at Dan.

“You said earlier that you and PJ have been a band since 2008. Did you ever think that you’d become so popular?” Jack asked.

“No actually. This is really surreal.” Phil glanced at PJ, fiddling with the microphone’s wire. “It’s always really nice when a fan comes up to one of us and goes ‘ _I love your music,_ ’ or ‘ _I have all of your albums_.’ it just shows us how much people care.” His face lit up as he talked.

“Phil and I have been friends since secondary school. That’s actually where the name of our band originated.” PJ said.

“That’s a question I’ve always wondered. How exactly did you come up with a name like _No Excuses_?” Dan asked.

“Well, we’d originally met in maths class in our tenth year—seat partners paired off by the teacher.” Phil sat forward, now engaged in the story.

“Oh he was brutal. What was his name? Jayakumar, I think,” PJ chuckled at the memory.

“Yeah, I think so. And he had this rule about late work, what was it—” Phil looked to PJ for help.

“Wasn’t it like, _‘All your work had to be turned in by such and such date— **No Excuses** ’_ or something like that?” PJ mimicked their teacher’s deep voice. Phil laughed.

“Yeah, it was always up at the corner of the board in capitals and underlined and everything.” Phil pointed to the place on the imaginary whiteboard. “Sometimes he’d change it up, use different felt-tip colors.”

“We bonded over our mutual hatred of him, and then realized we had things in common, like playing music, writing songs,” PJ said. “ _No Excuses_ became a sort of inside joke we had, and one day I was looking for a video idea—,”

“And wasn’t I like _‘what if we were a really bad band, and then aliens attacked’_ or something stupid like that _—_ ”

“Yeah, and then we were trying to write a terrible song for the video, and in that, we actually found out we were quite good.” PJ beamed. “My mum was very proud when we released our first EP.”

“So you’re also a filmmaker? That’s amazing!” Jack said. "Is that what you'd be doing if you weren't in a band?"

 

"Yeah probably. I love writing, acting, especially directing. I have an entire film planned in my head about this guy who inherits a hotel from his really weird uncle, and has to take care of the monstrous guests that live there." PJ's eyes lit up as he talked. Phil looked at PJ engaged in conversation, but smirked as he saw Dan watching him out of the corner of his eye.

 

"That sounds fantastic, I'll give you my card if you ever need an actor for the movie," Jack said, noticing Dan and Phil's silent conversation. "What about you Phil?"

"I-I-um," he stammered, breaking eye contact. Dan snickered, looking down at his lap to flip through the question cards. "I'd be a weatherman."

"A weatherman?!" PJ leaned back to look at his friend. Phil looked at him confused.

"Don’t you remember the time that I predicted the weather?" Phil asked PJ, who scoffed.

 

 _Obviously not,_ thought Dan.

" _Phil_ , you can't _really_ predict the weather, can you?" Dan asked. Phil nodded.

 

"I can, it's true! One time, I predicted that it was going to rain right? Okay backstory, I'm from Manchester, where yeah it rains quite a bit, but we were in the middle of a drought and PJ and I were like fifteen at the time, and I was like 'It’s gonna rain, I can feel it in my bones' and guess what? It rained, no lie." Phil said. PJ snorted.

 

"Actually, he and I waited a couple of hours and then we used hoses to make it seem like it was raining." PJ said.

Jack laughed. "That's a wonderful story, _beautiful_."

"But I _have_ guessed correctly whether or not there was six more weeks of winter before." Phil retorted.

 

"Punxsutawney Phil," Dan teased. Phil raised an eyebrow, nodding with a smirk. “If you’ve just arrived, Jack and I are interviewing the wonderful band _No Excuses_ , whose lead singer can apparently predict the weather. What’s the weather for the rest of the week going to be like, Phil?”

 

Phil thought for a moment before answering. “Sunny in most places, but a chance of a kitten rainstorm happening in the north,” he said. Jack laughed.

 

“Fantastic, BBC Weather, sign him now.” Jack pointed to the camera with his microphone. “So, tell us about your tour.”

 

“Right, yeah,” PJ began. “We’ve been on tour for about a month for our album, just finished in Ireland a couple weeks ago, right?” Phil nodded.

 

“Lovely people, the Irish. I loved being up north too, especially with it being so cold.” Phil smiled, resting his nose gently on the microphone. “But yeah, we took a little break, and now we’ll be playing the O2 arena next week, we start rehearsing next week.”

 

“Woah, how does it feel to be playing in an arena like that?” Dan gasped.

 

“It’s kind of awesome. Phil and I were actually just there _—_ what was it, two weeks ago _—_ watching Muse play, and now _we’re_ there and it’s just—it’s awesome,” PJ beamed.

 

“Oh, we were there for that concert, remember?” Jack gestured between himself and Dan.

“How could I forget? They had a wicked set. God, I love Muse,” Dan laughed, locking eyes with Phil.

 

The rest of the interview went by quickly, laughing about silly questions Jack and Dan had thought up earlier that day.

 

“Really, Phil? A _wheel for a foot_ instead of a hook for a hand? How would you go up the stairs?” Dan asked. “You keep choosing the things that’d make life the most difficult for you,”

 

“I’d wheel up the stairs. Or, you know, use an elevator,” Phil teased. Dan poked his tongue inside his cheek.

 

“Well, that seems to be our final question, and we are out of time,” Jack brought the interview before Dan could respond.

 

“Good luck with your tour, boys, and have a great performance at our Live Lounge. You listeners can catch that on Thursday, at 7 pm,” Dan said to the camera.

 

“Thank you so, so much for having us,” Phil said, smiling.

 

“It was our pleasure,” Dan grinned, talking more to Phil than anyone else as he caught Phil’s eye. They barely heard when the director shouted _“Cut!”_ , too lost in each other’s gazes.

 

“That’ll be all for today, thank you boys. Jack, Dan, could you come here please?” Jameela asked with a smile. Dan pulled away from Phil’s gaze and walked up to the petite woman.

 

“That was fantastic, boys. You two have a gift for interviewing people,” she grinned. Dan flushed, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

“Thank you ma’am,” he said politely. Jack nudged his shoulder.

 

“Well, we have Louise to thank for that. She's a wonderful agent, we’re very lucky to have her,” Jack smiled. Jameela nodded.

 

“You are indeed. Keep up the good work boys, I'll see you two next Sunday.” She smiled before turning on her heel, walking out of the room. Dan let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

 

“Fucking hell,” Jack sighed, resting his hand on Dan's shoulder.

 

“We just did our first interview,” Dan laughed.

 

“Not just any first interview, a bloody good one at that,” Jack smiled, before looking up, seeing Phil make his way over.

 

“Oh, Romeo himself approaches,” Jack teased, winking at Dan before leaving to gather his things. Dan turned; his breath caught in his throat as Phil walked up to him.

 

“Hi,” Phil said softly.

Dan flushed pink. “Hi,” he echoed.

 

“I'm _—_ do you _—_ should we,” Phil stuttered out. He took a breath. “Do you want to get dinner with me?”

 

Dan's face lit up as he nodded. _Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit Phil Lester just asked me out. Like actually properly out on a date oh my God._

 

“Looks like you got through that queue pretty quickly,” Dan managed to get out, grinning when he saw Phil’s face redden.

 

“Yeah, the fans weren’t huge like waah fans, but they were fans,” Phil teased.

 

“ _Wow_ , wow okay,” Dan laughed. “Let’s go,”

 

~*~

 

“Do you fancy a cheeky Nandos?” Dan nudged Phil’s shoulder as they walked out of the broadcasting house.

 

“Did you just—oh my God,” Phil cackled, his breath swirling through the frosty air. Dan giggled, and they walk in a comfortable silence for a few moments—well, not counting the passing cars and tourists and regular wankers that passed through the streets at fuck o’clock at night.

 

“No, never in this life, will I go for a _cheeky Nando’s_ ,” Phil faked a particularly terrible southern accent, making Dan double over in laughter. “What?”

 

“That was…terrible!” Dan said between barks of laughter, sending Phil over the edge as well, laughing along with him. They curled into each other in an attempt to stay standing, Dan laughing into Phil’s shoulder. Phil wrapped his arms around Dan’s waist, feeling the vibrations of Dan’s laughter against his chest. Their laughter subsided after a few moments, leaving the two men in each other’s arms.

 

“There’s a—um, there’s a Chinese place that’s hit or miss down the block. We could go there and see if there’s anything good.” Dan hoped his blush wasn’t too visible in the London dusk. Phil hummed in agreement.

 

“That’s the one that does takeout, right?” Phil asked. “Why don’t we go back to my tour bus, order the food and eat there, to minimize the risk of being seen. I don’t want you to get swarmed because of me,”

 

Dan’s heart stuttered at Phil’s words. _Phil Lester—just asked— **me** —to his tour bus_.  _With him._ Dan thought for a moment that he actually was going to hyperventilate.

 

“Um, yeah, yeah that sounds wonderful,” Dan smiled.

 

“Great,” Phil beamed, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Neither realized they were still in each other’s arms.

 

Dan was too immersed in the rough feeling of Phil’s red jacket, and how the black scarf he wore to protect his neck from the cold said _Hufflepuff_ down the middle. He knew it was supposed to be cold as all hell, but he couldn’t help but feel warm in Phil’s arms.

 

Phil noticed how the fairy lights strung across the telly wires shone off of Dan’s curled brunet hair, and how his brown eyes shone when he talked to Phil. It was a different kind of brightness in Dan’s eyes than when Phil was greeted with a regular fan, the crazed _OhmyGodIloveyouandPJsobloodymuch_ that followed quickly after. It was a genuine interest in what Phil talked about, and it seemed that Dan looked at him like a person, not a star.

 

Dan chuckled, leaning his forehead against Phil’s. They seemed to be in their own bubble, their own world that included no one else but them.

 

~*~

“So this, is where Peej and I live when we travel around.” Phil led Dan up the stairs into his tour bus, which was pretty extravagant if Dan did say so himself. They toed off their Vans and began the tour.

 

“Well, PJ likes to stay in the hotels with our sound mixers, Chris Kendall and Dean Thomas when we’ve stopped somewhere, but I like sleeping here.” He led Dan past the small kitchen. Dan ran his hand over the cool, black granite countertop.

 

“Would you like anything?” Phil asked, turning around to face Dan.

 

“A Ribena would be amazing,” Dan stuttered out. Phil smiled, a quick turn of the ends of his lips that made Dan grip the counter for support. He did however let his eyes wander to Phil as he bent down to pick out two bottles from the little fridge.

 

“I’m used to this surrounding, if I sleep in every hotel the tour stopped at, I’d never be able to adapt to anything.” They walked past the leather couches with red and black pillows, lit under the fairy lights he and PJ must’ve put up.

 

“PJ and I don’t like to use a ton of extra power here except for when we need it, not counting entertainment purposes,” he half-smiled, playing with the tassels on his scarf. “So we normally use fairy lights and lamps, instead of the bright lights in the bus.” He laughed to himself.

 

“When we first got the tour bus and started decorating it, we went to Tesco’s. It was hilarious. I couldn’t tell if the nice lady at the register was more surprised that _No Excuses_ was shopping at the store, or at the weird odds and ends the two of us bought.”

 

“That poor woman, she must have been so confused,” Dan laughed, imagining the two men in the check-out line with boxes of lights, lamps, food, and drinks.

 

They walked to a small area with four bunk beds, two of which had their curtains drawn. “Also, the beds are actually pretty comfortable, for a tour bus,” Phil said. Dan felt the blue and green checkered duvet. “I brought a couple things from home, to ease the homesickness.” It seemed like Phil was reading Dan’s mind, finishing the questions Dan was only just about to ask.

 

“But let me show you the _cou de crayon_ ,” Phil said with a smile. Dan snorted, a gulp of Ribena shooting up his nose.

 

“The pencil neck? Did you mean the _pièce de résistance_ , Phil?” he coughed out, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Same thing,” Phil laughed, bringing Dan into the “relaxation area” at the end of the tour bus.

 

“Sit wherever you’d like; you have a good view of the telly from wherever. The telly is already hooked up to the Wii U and everything from the last time PJ, Chris, Dean, and I played.” he motioned for Dan to sit down on the plush red and black upholstered couch that extended in a semi-circle. Phil walked over to a small box holding controllers and chargers.

 

“Wanna play Mariokart? I'm actually quite good when I’m not competing against anyone else,” he said sheepishly. Dan snorted.

 

“You’re on,” Dan grabbed the controller from Phil, biting his lip when their fingers brushed together.

 

“You wait here, I’m gonna go phone the Chinese place,” Phil smiled, “want anything specific?” he asked.

 

 _You,_ was the only thing Dan thought, but his mouth easily said “I’m good with anything.”

 

Phil nodded walking out of the room. Dan collapsed against the couch, taking out his phone. Three messages, all from Jack.

 

 **To Dan:** you fuck, you cost me ten quid

 

 **To Dan:** wait, you’re on your date now, hold on

 

 **To Dan:** make sure he uses condoms ;)

 

Dan's face burnt red, at the accusation of his position in bed (however correct it may be), and at the thought of sex with Phil—

 

“Stop,” he told himself, grabbing the red pillow to cover his crotch, his pants already tightening. He gripped his phone as he typed out the reply.

 

 **To Jack:** shut UP you twat

 

 **To Dan:** hey youre not denying it, have funnn ;)

 

“Hey, you okay?” Phil asked simply, leaning against the door frame in his Raybans—Dan’s breath caught in his throat. _He fucking wears glasses oh my **God**_ —his hand tangled in his fringe. Dan’s heart stuttered, wondering if he likes to have his hair pulled and his snake bites played with—

 

“Yup, yup I’m totally fine,” Dan coughed. “I’m ready to beat your ass in Mariokart,”

 

Dan’s stomach knotted as Phil smiled at him when he walked over, the smile that made Dan’s knees weak—the one with Phil’s tongue darting out of the side of his mouth.

 

“Move your legs up,” Phil said and Dan obliged quickly. He pulled the bottom half of the semi-circle couch out. “I almost forgot about the pull-out bed as well, very comfortable.”

 

“Don’t use it a lot, do you?” Dan asked, trying to sound playful but coming out insecure, his mind flitting to the endless amount of people Phil must’ve seduced on the tour.

 

“Nah, I normally sleep in one of the beds. The band uses it for epic game nights,” Phil laughed, and Dan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Phil took a quilt hanging on the back of the couch and sat in the middle of the bed, gesturing Dan to sit next to him. Dan, ever so gracefully, scooted over and fell sideways with a squeak that came out more like a squawk.

 

“Loser pays for the Chinese?” Phil stifled laughter as Dan repositioned himself next to Phil. Dan knocked his shoulder against Phil’s.

 

“You’re on.”

 

~*~

 

Dan was sure he was going to win. He was certain. They had a three race game, and Dan had won the first two races easily.

 

“I thought you said you were good at this!” Dan laughed as he passed through the finish line in first, Phil all the way in seventh.

 

Phil huffed, pouting a little. “It’s on 150cc; it’s too fast,” he laughed.

 

“Go big or go home Philly, we’re playing not only for food, but for honor and glory,” Dan laughed. Phil growled softly.

“You didn’t tell me how good you were at this game.” Phil raised an eyebrow, feigning annoyance. Dan shrugged.

 

“On a list of my skills, _**wrecking people in MarioKart**_ is definitely one of them,” he grinned at Phil.

 

“Okay, this last one is an all or nothing,” Phil said, the catchy music from the track menu floating around the room.

Dan scoffed. “Isn’t that how you got the blue streak in your hair?” Dan teased.

Phil blushed, hitting Dan with a throw pillow. “Shut up,”

Dan raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to start that? Oh you are _in for it_!” He grabbed the pillow he held and hit Phil back.

 

Phil launched himself onto Dan, wrestling over the couch—well, it was really just rolling across the pull-out bed. Somehow Dan ended up on top, pinning Phil’s wrists to the bed. His brunet fringe draped across Phil’s forehead; he was literally breathing Phil’s air.

 

And it was intoxicating.

 

“All or nothing.” Phil grinned, locking eyes with Dan. Dan marveled at how Phil’s eyes never lost their brightness, even in the shadow Dan made.

 

Phil leaned up, closing the gap between them in a tentative kiss. It was a simple pressing of lips together, though Dan took in everything—the feel of Phil’s soft lips against his, the rubber bracelets at his wrists, the cologne that strangely made Dan feel at home, like he’d already been with Phil for ages before this.

 

They broke away after a moment, Phil’s sharp cheekbones flushed bright pink as he smiled up at Dan. Dan was so far gone, so in love with this man, this dork, not the sex icon that was portrayed on stage (though, that did help).

 

“Fine.” Dan gave in, biting his bottom lip gently. He slid off of Phil, sitting up on the bed. Phil sat against the end of the bed where the couch began, quietly shucking off his red jacket.

 

“It’s your turn to—” Dan began, but was cut off by Phil’s tattoo sleeves. His breath caught in his throat and damn it, if Phil wasn’t smirking at him, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

 

“Yes?” Phil asked smugly. Dan’s face flushed red.

 

“Your turn to pick, you spork,” Dan laughed, using his last sliver of focus to not actually rip Phil’s clothes off of his body— _but God did he want to_. Maybe that’s where his focus went when Phil crossed the finish line in first on the Animal Crossing track, Dan following a close second.

 

“ _What the fuck?!_ ” Dan yelled, Phil unable to hide his laughter. “ _Fuck you Mariokart, and your shitty randomized items_.”

 

“That’s the beauty of all or nothing, Dan,” Phil said when his laughter calmed down.

 

“Shut up, I was distracted.” Dan fidgeted with the controller.

 

“You what, you were what?” Phil teased, cupping his ear to hear Dan, but was greeted with a faint knocking on the door. Phil grinned. “It’s the delivery guy. I’ve got this, don’t worry,” Phil said, getting out of the bed to get the dinner.

 

“But—” Dan protested.

 

“Hey, no buts, I have the glory of knowing I beat _the Dan Howell_ in Mariokart.” He giggled, walking out of the room.

 

~*~

 

“Wait, so you have a YouTube channel too?” Phil asked. They’d abandoned their game as soon as Phil came back with two more Ribenas and the bag of food and fell into easy conversation about everything-Pokemon, Muse, anime, music, they had so much in common. Dan nodded, twirling the last bit of chow mein with his fork.

 

“Yup, danisnotonfire; it’s a decent account,” he shrugged. “My younger brother convinced me to start my account because his gaming account was such a fail. He was what, ten at the time? I couldn’t say no.”

 

“No way, I have to see a video,” Phil said. Dan choked on his food.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“A video, of yours. You seem to know a lot about me, but I know nothing about you. Pretty please?” Phil asked, fluttering his eyelashes.

 

Great.

 

Indie pop punk star dork who’d mastered the art of the Puppy Dog Eyes. Could he be any more perfect?

 

“Fine.” Dan said grudgingly. Phil’s eyes lit up, and he practically ran to the table to get his Macbook. Dan logged onto his YouTube account, and let Phil peruse his videos. He looked to the side and saw a playlist entitled **_Really Awesome Music Videos_ ** which—to Dan’s wonderful luck—Phil clicked on, and saw the entire playlist made up of _No Excuses_ ’ videos. Dan covered his face, but could feel Phil’s genuine smile.

 

“Not big fans of us, eh?” Phil teased again.

 

“Shut up, you spoon,” Dan laughed, blushing as he hit Phil’s shoulder gently. Phil smiled, clicking back and finally choosing _Psycho Thoughts_. Dan curled into Phil in embarrassment throughout the entire video, starting with the super cringe photo for the _Reasons Why Dan’s a Fail (yay)_ cover. Phil wrapped his arm around Dan, and they watched in silence.

 

Well, not really.

 

Phil was raving the entire time about the production quality and how relatable it was _—_ “Oh God, I hope you don’t think I’m a crazy stalker now,” Phil said. As Dan felt the vibrations of Phil’s laugh as he laid against Phil’s chest, butterflies fluttered through his stomach at each compliment Phil gave.

 

“That was hilarious Dan, and wait—holy shit, you have four million subscribers?” Phil asked. Dan blushed, nodding.

 

“BBC helped a lot with that, and Jack’s a director, so I sometimes act in his short films and—”

 

“What’s this video?” Phil asked, the recommended video next to it, the blessed _Hello Internet_ video. Dan’s shoulders tightened as he made a motion for the Mac.

 

“Oh no no no no no—we don’t need to see my first video,” Dan said quickly, but Phil was quicker, and pushed the Mac out of his reach. “ _NO_ , we don’t need to see this,”

 

“Oh, yes we do,” Phil said as the auto-play rolled over into the video. Nineteen-year-old Daniel creeping into frame awkwardly, before saying his first hi with a salute to the camera.

 

“Oh my God this is fantastic.” Phil held Dan close to him as he cringed.

 

“Nope, I’m leaving the room.” Dan struggled against Phil’s arms around his waist.

 

“It’s really cute,” Phil smiled against Dan’s ear. “But only as half as cute as you are,”

 

Dan blushed out of embarrassment from Phil’s kind words and from the fact that the _bloody video was still playing_. Instead of wiggling out of Phil’s grip, he settled for kissing him again.

 

“You’re a dork,” Dan leaned his forehead against Phil’s gently. Phil let out a breathy giggle, finally turning off the video. Dan relaxed.

 

“Sorry, that’s my kryptonite,” Dan said, laughing.

Phil shrugged. “I don’t know why. You should’ve seen PJ and my first short film. Now _that_ was terrible,” Phil grinned. They lay there for a couple of moments in silence, an endearing one, one that felt like they were speaking words unable to be said.

 

“I have an idea,” Phil said suddenly. Dan jumped, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Are we gonna watch another video from 2009, because if so, I’m—”

 

“No, of course not. Get off of the bed and close your eyes.” Phil said.

Dan furrowed his eyebrows. “Why?” he asked.

Phil rolled his eyes. “Do you trust me?” Phil asked. Dan nodded. “Then stand,” he said simply.

Dan did as he was told, closing his eyes.

 

Phil took out his iPhone and opened his music app. He connected to the wireless speakers and began the song.

 

“ _When your legs don't work like they used to before, And I can't sweep you off of your feet Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love? Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks?_ ” the speakers sang. Dan opened his eyes to see Phil standing in front of him, smiling.

“What’s this?” Dan asked.

“Jack got to dance with you. May I?” Phil asked, holding out his hand. Dan beamed, taking Phil’s hand.

“ _People fall in love in mysterious ways, maybe just the touch of a hand. Well, me - I fall in love with you every single day, and I just wanna tell you I am. So honey now, take me into your loving arms. Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars, place your head on my beating heart. I'm thinking out loud. Maybe we found love right where we are._ ” Phil sang softly in Dan's ear.

Phil twirled Dan under his arm and into a warm embrace and loving lips, and nothing could’ve broken that moment between them. They’d made another universe, under the London stars that couldn’t be matched by anything else.

~*~

Dan woke up the next morning with his neck aching like he’d slept on a—

Futon.

He looked down and saw a tattooed arm slung over his waist, their jean-clad legs intertwining. Dan, oddly enough, felt at home. And it was a different feeling than his actual home in London. Here in bed, however uncomfortable, with Phil was enough. He turned over gently, to not wake Phil. His glasses were lens down on the pleather couch, Dan reached up to turn them over.

“Morning, love,” Dan heard Phil croak softly. Dan’s heart panged at that voice. He slid back down, face to face with Phil.

“Hey,” Dan grinned.

Phil covered his mouth to yawn, and Dan wondered what it’d be like to wake up every day to that face, that yawn. Phil scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to wipe the sleep from his eyes.

Dan reached up and grabbed Phil’s glasses. “Here, try these,” Dan chuckled, handing them to Phil.

“Thanks,” Phil smiled, “All the better to see you with, my dear.”

“Shut up.” Dan rolled his eyes, laughing at the childhood storybook reference.

Phil’s face fell quickly. “Shit, what time is it?” he asked frantically. Dan looked at the time on the digital clock on top of the Apple TV.

“10.30 am. Why?” Dan asked. Phil practically jumped out of bed and ran into the hallway to grab clothes. (Dan’s not gonna lie, he oogled Phil’s tattooed torso as he pulled off his shirt).

“I have to get to rehearsal,” he apologized, as if he _wanted_ to spend the morning lounging with Dan. “you can stay if you want—”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry!” Dan grinned. Phil knelt on the bed, pecking Dan’s lips gently.

“Goodnig-bye! Have a good rehearsal!” Dan called, hearing Phil’s melodic giggle followed by the slam of the tour bus door. He slapped his forehead. _Have a good rehearsal? Goodnight?_ Dan grabbed his phone from the couch, put on his shoes, left his number and address on a notepad in the mini-kitchen and walked out of the bus, his heart a flutter and a skip in his step.

~*~

Jack heard the tumblers to the locks on his door _click-click-click,_ his ears perking up.

 

“Young Danny’s home.” He called out, smirking when he heard the keys jingle in the key bowl.

“Shut up. And I’m older than you,” Dan said, sitting on the black plush couch, with his “internet position” all but engraved into the poor cushions.

“So, did you shag him?” Jack asked, trying to hold back a snicker from behind his computer.

Dan’s cheekbones grew bright pink, shaking his head. “No, we just talked until we fell asleep, I guess.” He opened his phone, greeted with a close-up photo of Phil’s face replacing an abstract version of _Starry Night_ by Van Gogh. He snorted, unlocking his phone showing his notes page.

_Can't trust me with your phone passcode and not expect to change your wallpapers ^_– my number is already in your phone, text me later ^.^_

_Phil xx_

Dan blushed, closing the app to his home screen, a photo of Dan sleeping, rested on Phil’s lap, Phil’s hand in his hair.

**To Phil:** You're a dork. Have a good rehearsal ^u^

**To Dan:** <3

“You’re all but one step away from doodling _Mr. Dan Lester_ on your notebook,” Jack teased. Dan threw the galaxy pillow at Jack, who dodged it easily, so he settled for flipping him the bird.

“Fuck off,” Dan blushed.

~*~

Dan was never one to worry. He’d dated plenty of people who didn’t text because they were “against technology” (those relationships ended quickly) and people who were busy and not good texters, but they actually returned his texts. Or asked him out again. Or contacted him again.

But there Dan was, editing his new video half-focused, locking and unlocking his phone to check for a reply from Phil. He’d sent Phil a text the next day asking if he wanted to go to dinner.

_It’s only eight o’clock at night. Don't worry. He's probably busy._

_19.05_

No text from Phil. He’d read it, but hadn’t responded.

Dan groaned, resting his head on his phone.

_Bzzt Bzzt_

Blinded by his bright screen, Dan let out a high-pitched shriek, falling sideways out of his plush office chair. He scrubbed his eyes and patted blindly around the desk for his phone.

**From Phil:** Come outside.

Dan raised an eyebrow, unlocking his phone.

**To Phil:** Why? You could be a serial killer with Phil's phone.

**From Phil:** Do you trust me?

**To Phil:** Of course.

**From Phil:** Then come outside. Please?

He took his cardigan off of his chair and walked down the steps (the four fucking flights of stairs) and opened the front door. Dan was met with a slightly shivering Phil, snowflakes freezing the bouquet of roses and peppering his black hair and— _Jesus, he was only wearing a thin sweater, he must be freezing._

“You're a moron, it's snowing, you must be freezing,” Dan said, his heart turning in his chest at the bashful smile and shrug he got in return.

“I'm so sorry about not returning your texts. PJ and I changed our Live Lounge song last minute, so we’ve been in rehearsal quite literally all day for the past two days and I just passed out last night and then again right before I was going to text you back because _of course I want to go to dinner with you today_ , but we got the song down and recorded for Thursday, and I think you’re really going to like it and I'm really sorry, could I take you to dinner, unless you've already eaten, there's a Starbucks down the road—” Phil's rambling was cut short by a pair of lips pressing gently against his in a sweet kiss. Phil's arms wrapped around Dan’s waist,  the condensation from the bouquet’s plastic wrap seeping through the fabric of his cardigan, sending shivers down his back,  

“Like I said, you're a moron. You're lucky I like you,” Dan smiled, resting his forehead against Phil’s.

“I really am,” he huffed out a laugh, kissing Dan once more.

Dan invited him inside his apartment, before leaving him in the lounge to prepare quickly for their date. Phil had made himself comfortable in a recliner, sending out a quick tweet about the Live Lounge. He’d barely heard Jack come in from the kitchen with a glass of water, setting it on the coffee table a little harder than necessary. Phil jumped, his phone falling on the floor. He thanked God his screen was safe because of his OtterBox. With his luck, it could’ve shattered the screen from the _inside_ , making it impossible to even see his screen.

“Oh, God, hello Jack, you scared me,” Phil grinned, though the smile subsided when he saw Jack’s stone-faced grimace.

Jack made his way to the couch across from Phil, sitting down with his arms crossed. “My friend Dan is a good person,” Jack began, much like a father would talk to his child’s first partner.

Phil nodded. “Yes sir—I mean Jack,” he scrambled to get to his phone, trying to maintain a good composure.

“Guys like Dan are hard to find. He’s kind, and funny, and trusting, always looking for the best in people. I know you two have resolved the fact that you’ve ignored Dan’s texts, but if I hear that you’re treating him any less than what he’s worth—”

“I’ll deal with it myself, Jack, thank you.” Dan leaned against the doorway, a thicker coat on, black skinny jeans replacing his sweatpants. Jack squinted at Phil, who nodded nervously back at him. “Are you ready to go?”

~*~

Dan’s phone rang, waking him up from his sleep. Phil had stayed the night with him again, this time in an actual bed. After they left Dan’s house, and Dan calmed Phil’s nerves— _he says that to everybody_ —they went out for coffee.

They’d even gotten a booth near the window, so they could play tic-tac-toe and doodle on the inside of the warm coffee house window in contrast to the freezing cold outside.

They’d laughed over different stage stories— _PJ’s drumstick literally broke in two and flew into the audience and hit a poor girl in the face_ —and even talked about games Phil and PJ played on the road.

_“Okay no, but what if you had these challenges, like ‘say your name backward’ or ‘make up a new greeting’ but it had to be in only seven seconds,” Phil said, his heart twisting at Dan’s beam. “You could call it, I don’t know, the Seven Second Challenge or something,”_

__

_“I think that’s a fantastic idea, and extra points for the wonderfully creative title,” Dan teased._

 

__The night grew heated when they got back, as Phil undressed and pressed Dan into his bed, kissing him deeply, teeth clashing and his hand moving closer to his—_ _

__

“ _Daniel!_ ” Louise shouted into the receiver, yanking Dan back to reality. Dan pulled the phone away from his ear, her excited—and loud—words too much for his half-asleep brain.

“Hello, Louise,” he yawned, running a hand through his rat’s nest of bed-head hair.

Louise cleared her throat, moving into Manager-Slash-Mother-Mode.

“I met with the Grimmy who had talked to the producer of BBC Radio One, and he wants you and Jack to run an Internet Takeover this Thursday,” she said. “It doesn’t necessarily have to be as big as your Sunday shows, but he specifically asked for you two to introduce _No Excuses_ ’ Live Lounge performance.”

Dan blinked a couple of times. “Thursday as in, _tomorrow_ Thursday?” he asked. Louise huffed.

“No, he means the next week Thursd— _of course he means tomorrow, you spoon_. I couldn’t talk him out of it. He was very demanding, and I said okay,” Louise said guiltily.

“Louise! Jack and I can’t create an _entire radio show in less than twenty-four hours_ ,” Dan said.

“It’ll be fine, just a watered down version of what you usually do. Have your audience request the songs over Twitter today and send in the playlist tonight! Please, Dan, I’m begging you,” she said, and Dan was wondering if she was actually on her knees on the phone begging.

“Alright, fine. But _you’re_ telling Jack.” He hung up the phone, placing it on the bedside table next to him. He felt an arm pull at his waist, and a soft kiss pressed against the nape of his neck.

“Morning,” Phil said, his voice deep from sleep. Dan turned over and kissed Phil languidly.

 

“What was that?”

“My manager. She wants me and Jack—”

“ _LIKE HELL WE ARE!_ ” Jack shouted from his bedroom. Dan snorted.

“Ah, she texted him. Good choice.” Dan said. “Leave _me_ to the complaining Jack.”

Jack stomped into Dan’s room, his iPhone in hand. “Have you seen this?” Jack growled, showing the phone to him. Dan turned back over, reading the text.

**From Louise:** Radio show tomorrow, hope you’re up for it :D

Dan turned over to face Jack. “Yup, she just called me. Let’s just send out a tweet like _‘Super Special Jack and Dan Playlist’_ or something. It’s important to her; let’s just do it.”

“But an _entire radio show_?” Jack laughed unconvincingly. “Our fans will be expecting games and everything.”

“I can help,” Phil said, sitting up in bed, the bright blue streak in his hair contrasting with the dark colours of the room. “You can use _The Seven Second Challenge_ if you want.”

Jack sighed. “Alright, let’s grab our shit and make a radio show.”

 

~*~

 

With just twenty-four hour’s notice, Dan would say that the _#SuperSpecialThursdayShow_ was going pretty well. Jack won The Seven Second Challenge and got to play his special song _Mary, Did You Know?_ by Pentatonix. Dan looked through the tweets, and everyone was raving about Phil’s new game, and the show in general. Dan grinned at Phil, who sat in the corner of the room again, watching the show.

**To Phil:** You’re a hit, sir. Onstage and off.

**To Dan:** Are you surprised? ;)

“Next we have our old friends, who you saw us interview on Tuesday, perform their cover in the Live Lounge. _No Excuses_ , take it away,” Dan said excitedly, switching to the computer to watch the pre-recorded performance. Phil was really good at keeping secrets, and refused to tell him the song they were performing, leaving Dan to guess what was going to happen.

_“Hi,” the Phil on the screen saluted to the camera._ Dan’s face immediately burned red, covering his mouth.

**To Phil:** You sneaky little fucker.

**To Dan:** Just wait, it’ll be great.

_“My name is Phil Lester.”_

__

_“And I’m PJ Ligouri,” PJ called from his drumset._

_“And we will be performing a song dedicated to a very special person. This is for you,” Phil winked at the camera before playing the introduction to Ed Sheeran’s_ Thinking Out Loud.

Dan stepped away from the mic, tears welling in his eyes. What a dork this man had fallen in love with. He quickly ran over to the spot where Phil was sitting, engulfing him in a hug.

“You’re such a dork,” Dan whispered. They stayed in their embrace, swaying gently to the music like they had in the tour bus. A perfect universe created just for them.

 

**Epilogue**

The next month and a half Phil was gone on tour was difficult, but they kept up a healthy online relationship.

Well, healthy being Skyping until the early hours in the morning on the days both boys had off, and texting each other when they were busy.

**To Dan:** We’re about to play The Hydro. I’m so nervous!!

**To Phil:** I want to be there so you don’t have to be nervous.

Phil’s homecoming was a flurry of hugs and kisses and _“fuck I’ve missed you so much”_ followed by a small catch-up date at Starbucks, the place they’d made their home. Neither would have traded it for the world.

~*~

It was a wonderful winter morning in London. Birds were chirping, the leaves had grown back on the trees, the flowers in full bloom. The sun warmed the passerby tourists and people bustling to get to work, but Dan and Phil were peacefully slumbering in their bed—that is, before they were woken up by Jack.

“Bloody Hell, guys, you won’t believe this!” Jack barged into Dan’s room. Dan shot up, hickeys shown bright purpley-red on his collar bone.

“Whassat?” Dan grumbled. “It’s too damn early, Jack.”

“It’s eleven thirty, Daniel, and this is payback for last December,” Jack snorted. Dan rubbed Phil’s back gently to wake him up. (Jack tried to ignore the red scratch marks down Phil’s back— _ew,TMI_.)

“Hmm?” Phil murmured.

“Jack has big news. I hope, or we’ll be down one roommate,” Dan eyed Jack, who nodded.

“So. Remember that short film idea PJ had about the hotel filled with crazy creatures?” Jack asked, practically vibrating with excitement. Dan and Jack nodded. “Well, it’s being produced, and guess who’s one of the leads?”

“Johnny Depp,” Phil joked.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Me! It shoots in California for a year.” Jack said.

Dan beamed. “Jack that’s great! When does it start shooting?” he asked.

“Friday,” Jack said. Dan’s heart sunk at that statement. _An entire year?_

“Wow, that’s so soon. I wish we’d have known about it earlier so we could’ve done a special goodbye radio show before I go solo,” Dan said. Jack exchanged a look with Phil.

“Well, that’s what I also wanted to talk to you about. Phil and I talked to Louise—why don’t you tell him, Lester?” Jack asked, smiling.

“She said I could be your radio show partner for the year, if you want.” Phil smiled.

Dan’s face brightened. “Are you kidding? This is awesome!” Dan exclaimed, kissing Phil deeply. He got out of bed, and hugged Jack tightly.

“I’m so proud of you.” Dan said, smiling. “I’m gonna miss you dude.”

“Hey, no chick flick moments,” Jack laughed. “We’ve gotta train this guy in the way of the radio.”

~*~

 

“Ugh, I’m so scared,” Phil said, putting on the bulky black headphones in the BBC Broadcasting House. Dan grabbed his hand gently, pulling Phil close to him.

“Hey, I’m with you, so you don’t have to be scared,” Dan smiled, kissing Phil quickly.

“Are you sure?” Phil asked.

“Do you trust me?” Dan asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Of course,” Phil nodded.

“Then you’re going to be fine. Ready?”

“Ready.” Phil said, kneeling down on the floor.

“You are now listening to, and watching _Dan and Jack’s Internet Takeover_ ,” Dan said, glancing down at Phil who was crouching on the floor waiting for his entrance. _BBC Radio One_ sounded as their introduction.

“‘Sup people of the internet? My name’s Dan, and you’re watching me for the next hour on this brilliant January morning. Before we get into the _just for lols_ entertainment of our internet’s dank memes, I have someone to introduce to you! C’mon up.” Dan motioned for Phil to pop up into the camera’s view.

“Hi guys!” Phil beamed, waving into the camera.

“It’s Phil Lester from _No Excuses_!” Dan played the _‘Yay!!’_ sound effect. “My good buddy here is going to be filling in for Jack while he becomes a big movie star,” Dan smiled.

The radio show carried on smoothly, the blunders were laughed at easily, but they both knew.

As long as they had each other, they’d be fine.

**Author's Note:**

> [Oh my GOD look at the wonderful art that Cutiepiedan did for my story!!!](http://maggieisnotacat.tumblr.com/post/132247151825/ahhh-this-is-the-wonderful-art-that)
> 
> Comments and kudos are much appreciated <33333 thank you!!
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr,](https://maggieisnotacat.tumblr.com) [instagram,](https://instagram.com/maguirebenton/) and [twitter!](https://twitter.com/maguirebenton) and [ come take a peek at my Youtube channel! ](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC79sXkEBXUdDeg8UTYKxHVQ?sub_confirmation=1&feature=iv&src_vid=_FEnvB4OTfE&annotation_id=annotation_2060573417)  
>  
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> 
> Please comment, kudos, and bookmark if you liked it! I really enjoyed writing this for the Phandom Big Bang, I'm kind of sad that it's already over *crys*
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr,](https://maggieisnotacat.tumblr.com) [instagram,](https://instagram.com/mag.tracy/) and [twitter!](https://twitter.com/traseashore) and [ come take a peek at my Youtube channel! ](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC79sXkEBXUdDeg8UTYKxHVQ?sub_confirmation=1&feature=iv&src_vid=_FEnvB4OTfE&annotation_id=annotation_2060573417)


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